


Run & Run

by Anonymous



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Accidental Cheating, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crack, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kim Seokjin | Jin-centric, M/M, Minor Character(s), Near Death Experiences, Rich Min Yoongi | Suga, Underground Rapper Min Yoongi | Suga, better safe than sorry, humor is in the second part-, not rlly, this isn't really that graphic but
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 20:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16730175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seokjin is captured, held captive, and tortured for information on a person he doesn’t know. What happens when “that person” finds out?





	Run & Run

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [fluffy_lee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_lee/pseuds/fluffy_lee) in the [btspromptmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/btspromptmeme) collection. 



> here's zee, back at it again with randomly writing bts amidst all of the jongkey stories. i hope you all enjoy, and if you do, don't forget to drop some kudos and comments!

**Wednesday Night ― 8:30pm.**

“Seokjin-ah!”

The said male is awake and standing up on wobbly legs before he can even think to open his eyes, squinting tiredly in the direction of the loud voice. He recognizes it well enough after three straight days of hearing only three voices; this being the only one of them that came from another person. The figure soon comes into view, Seokjin’s vision blurring and then focusing in again, before he notices a female standing behind the unfortunately familiar man.

His legs give out on him, sending him back down to the floor to land on his tailbone. Although his breath hitches at the pain, he doesn’t even wince, focused on the new stranger. The man beside her seems to notice, scoffing as he walks over to bend in front of him.

“What, like what you see?” he says with a cocky smirk, gripping some of Seokjin’s hair in his hand. The latter winces and goes to look back at him instead, but his head is forced back in the direction of the girl. “Don’t be shy. You’ll be able to talk with her lots today, okay? Take a good look.”

The first impression? She seemed out of place. Her clean, put-together outfit seemed more fit for a job interview than the room they’re in, sealed in by concrete walls and molding wood. The straight hair that flowed over her shoulders is a similar shade to Seokjin’s. The look in her eyes was unreadable—looking into them made it seem like it was just a void.

By the time the man lets go of his hair, his scalp is sore like the rest of his body. He lets his head fall forward for a minute to rest his neck, lifting it only a few seconds later to watch the man, who was now dragging two wooden chairs towards him. 

Oh? So there is wood that isn’t molding in here, he jokes in his mind, making himself crack a tiny smile. Immediately, he wipes it off of his face and prays the man didn’t notice. The girl didn’t, to his relief, but then to his disappointment, the glare from the man signified that he did.

 

**Thursday Morning ― 1:08am.**

Seokjin falls onto his back on the floor, heaving for air after having the wind knocked out of him. He can no longer see straight; whether his vision is clouded by tears or nearing unconsciousness, he isn’t sure, but what he is certain of is that he hopes it’s the latter. Luck isn’t in his favor in that moment, though, because he has to hear the same questions that have been repeated for days now.

“I said where”—the man mutters through gritted teeth, pressing a knife underneath his chin—”is the guy now?”

After closing his eyes and taking a quick and short breath, Seokjin begins to respond with, “Sir, I—”

The man raises his hand with the knife in it, expecting Seokjin to wince or cower in intimidation. The latter does so, but only slightly, eyes trained on the knife as he notices a glint on the blade. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, which the man seems to mistake for determination. 

Seokjin blinks at the sound of laughter coming from the man, feeling more confused as he looks from the knife to his face. He then takes a punch to his own face, falling back onto his elbows.

“Gonna try to take my knife? In this state?”

The man is practically doubling over with laughter. He wipes an imaginary tear away from his eye as he catches his breath, closing the knife and tucking it away in his pocket. A look at his watch causes him to crouch beside Seokjin instead of beating him again, patting his wounded shoulder roughly.

“Tell me everything tomorrow, ‘kay?”

 

**Friday Morning ― 10:43am.**

Seokjin wakes up to a stream of curses, spoken loudly by an unfamiliar voice. Another voice responds to the first, one he actually recognizes as the only man he’s seen for almost five days now. The now familiar sound of chains announces his movement to sit up, vision taking longer to focus in.

“Stand up,” somebody commands. Seokjin can’t tell that it’s directed at him until he looks up, and by then, it’s too late. A boot flies towards his face, landing on his cheek and sending him back to the ground. 

He coughs up a bit of blood as he obeys the command, struggling to keep himself balanced, but manages to do so as one of the two men steps towards him. The chains that bound his wrists to the ground are unlatched, setting his red and swollen hands free.

The stranger throws a hoodie, pair of shorts, and a pair of flip flops at him, all the color black. Taken aback, Seokjin waits for one to tell him what to do with it. One of the flip flops falls from the top of the pile to the ground beside his own foot. The sound echoes in the room, followed by an exasperated groan from the stranger.

Well, technically they both are strangers. Familiarity is the only difference between them. Seokjin wants to scream at the thought; “stranger” in his recent vocabulary was practically anyone besides the guy who has been torturing him for the last week.

“I don’t have time for this. Are you stupid? Put the clothes on!”

He does as he is told as quickly as his weak and sore limbs can, unwilling to aggravate the two any more. To his shame, neither look away as he strips completely out of his tattered clothes into the cheap, yet new, ones.

Hands pull him forward before he can even get the second flip flop all the way on. He manages to get it on as the three walk out of the room he hadn’t been out of since he got there. He doesn’t get to see the outside of it, though. There’s nothing he registers other than a sudden weight on the back of his head before his vision fades into black once again.

During his state of unconsciousness, he is dragged to a van and taken to a place he doesn’t know of even after he wakes up. Another thing he doesn’t see is a girl he could have recognized. What he does realize later on, however, is that he never genuinely spoke to this girl as previously promised. Instead, she was locked in chains beside him until the next day, when she was moved elsewhere without him even getting to know her name.


End file.
